


What Happened in Austria's Home

by Chizu5645



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Confusing pronouns, Drabble Collection, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, Human & Country Names Used (Hetalia), Immortals, M/M, Period-Typical Sexism, lots of headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-07-11 13:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15973670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chizu5645/pseuds/Chizu5645
Summary: There were four inhabitants of the manor.The lord, who owned and maintained the manor.The lady, who protected the lord and advised him.The master, who ruled over them despite his age.And the maid, who, despite not choosing this, made the most of his life in the manor.//A drabble/story collection based on Italy, HRE, Austria, Hungary, and potentially other characters\\





	1. Spill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Holy Rome, Italy  
> Prompt: Spill  
> Word Count: 195  
> **For HWD's Drabble Night!

"Isn't it ironic that you have to clean up your own messes?"

Italy's head whipped up, then burned in embarrassment as he gripped the mop tighter. "It was an accident!" He snapped back, swishing the mop around the spill. Cleaning up his own messes was one thing, but to be caught by the master of the house?

Holy Rome raised an eyebrow. "And... What caused this spill?" He asked with a sort of bored tone. However, he was actually quite interested in the Italian's life; anything to distract the idle boredom in Austria's home.

"Wine should never be delivered in the glass, always in the bottle, but Mister Austria insisted." Italy paused, then looked up to Holy Rome. "You won't tell him, would you? I'm already late to deliver the wine, I don't want him to yell at me more."

Holy Rome evaluated the scene. Italy had almost cleaned up everything, even the glass shards. If there was a stain, he would throw a rug over it. It wouldn't be the first time. But even then... "If he asks where the missing glassware is, you're on your own."

Italy smiled wide. "Thank you so much!"


	2. Language

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Holy Rome, Italy  
> Prompt: Language  
> Word Count: 830

Italy still wasn’t used to German.

Unlike Italian, words in German always felt heavy, clunky. Italy had trouble forming his mouth correctly to get even a few words across. They used more consonants, more hard sounds, compared to more fluid languages he grew up with. Learning French was easier than this. ... Then again, France was more accommodating and there was less pressure to learn in his grandfather’s home.

Italy sighed. He wished he still lived with his grandfather.

Italy had been told by his grandfather that all Germans were, in short, barbarians. That made sense, with how many times the Roman Empire and the barbarians from the north warred with each other. It was even a German leader that ended Rome’s rule. Upon arriving at Austria’s house, however, that notion seemed further than the truth. Despite being given a room in the servants’ quarters and forced into servitude, it was all in a lush mansion that was, while near rolling fields and meadows, close enough to civilization and government. Italy had always imagined the Germans living in hastily-made camps, surrounded around a fire, pissing in bushes—

“Hey!”

Italy stiffened, mop frozen in his hands. There were actually _two_ things he wasn’t used to: The German language, and “the master of the house”.

True, while Austria owned the house (and did a great job making sure Italy maintained it), even he reported to someone above his own boss. Italy turned around to watch the person in question walking towards him, confidently and self-assuredly. Like he owned the place, which he did.

Holy Rome refused to speak Italian. Hungary was the one who gave Italy German lessons in the first place, Austria would sometimes translate if Italy didn’t understand an instruction, but Holy Rome refused to speak anything but German. And Italy _knew_ the empire knew other languages, he had listened to meetings on multiple occasions where Holy Rome spoke French, English, and even Russian to foreign dignitaries. He might’ve been the same physical age as Italy — a sign of a replacement personification — but he was very obviously higher in power. He could snap back to Austria and Hungary without getting reprimanded, he had personal servants that traveled with him, and from what Italy saw, everyone bent to his whim.

Grandpa had always told him that being envious was a sin, but Italy didn’t know how he _couldn’t_ be envious in this situation.  

Holy Rome started talking even before he arrived in front of Italy. Unlike Italy’s clumsy German, Holy Rome spoke fluently and clearly. He somehow made the abruptness and choppiness of the German language sound good. It didn’t make much of a difference, though; he spoke too fast for Italy to clearly understand. The only word he caught was “clean”, which really wasn’t surprising, but Italy didn’t know the context. Did Holy Rome want him to clean something? Was something not clean? Was he complimenting him for something he cleaned? He was doubtful, but it was still a nice thought.

And then Holy Rome stopped talking. Italy stared blankly back, waiting for a translation that wasn’t going to come. Obviously irritated, Holy Rome snapped something at him. Shamefully, Italy flinched. It was barely anything — just a tensing of the shoulders, a slight grimace — but both he and Holy Rome caught it.

Holy Rome muttered something to himself. From the tone of his voice, it sounded like he said something insulting, but with a confidence that made him more than sure that Italy wouldn’t have understood him anyway. It made Italy want to smack Holy Rome.

Then Holy Rome did something surprising.

“ _Do you at least understand French?_ ” Holy Rome asked, that patronizing tone still there.

Italy felt both shocked, relieved, and annoyed. On one side, he felt relief in the fact that yes, Holy Rome was finally willing to communicate with Italy. On the other side, the way he phrased that question made it exceptionally clear how Holy Rome thought of Italy: another conquered city-state that contributed more land under his empire. Nothing more, nothing less.

Still, Italy swallowed back the insults to say, “ _Yes, I understand French._ ”

Holy Rome looked relieved. “ _I was just saying that you do excellent work cleaning the house, and I was wondering if you could tidy up my room,_ ” he replied. “ _You do know where that is, correct?_ ”

Italy nodded stiffly.

“ _Good._ ” Italy didn’t miss the way Holy Rome inspected him from head to toe, and this time, he didn’t back down. “ _... Make sure it’s done._ ”

Italy stood still, watching Holy Rome pivot on his heel and walk away with the flourish of a bureaucrat. But even with the flourish and flair, Italy could still see the Germanic barbarian underneath. With a scoff, he dipped his mop in the sudsy water. This might’ve not been the life he imagined living, but he was going to make the most of it. Grandpa would be proud.

And with that, he continued scrubbing the floors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't already tell, these are nowhere near in chronological order.


	3. Dreams and Candlelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Candlelight/Dream  
> Characters: Holy Rome  
> Words: 245  
> **For the HWD's Drabble Night!

It was nightmares, once again.

Walking around in pajamas was undignified, but Holy Rome was alone and it was the middle of the night. No dignitaries were around to correct him and scold him. Shielding the flickering flame of his candle, Holy Rome slowly paced around the manor in the dead of night. He was at least awake enough to wear stockings; going barefoot was _truly_ unacceptable.

Inwardly, he sighed. Being the culmination of nations, city-states, and territories was exhausting. It meant that he felt a shadow of what everyone else felt, went through the same waves of emotion, suffered the same pains and worries. This also meant countless nights either too restless to sleep (because some idiot thought it would be a good idea to drink the night away) or fall asleep only to be chased by someone else's demons. The rare nights he could sleep were only an omen to the next day's struggles.

He paused at the sitting room. The single flame cast haunting shadows on the closed curtains and the piano. Holy Rome's shoulders slumped. It'd be unwise to sleep on one of the guest chairs, but he was too tired to go back to his room. With a quiet sigh, he plucked a thick book set out already on the table (Austria never picked up after himself), climbed onto a cushy guest chair, and gently took out the candle to light the lantern on the table.

One more night longer.


	4. Cloth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Austria, Italy, Hungary  
> Prompt: Cloth  
> Word Count: 237  
> ** For the HWD Drabble Night!

"And then, when you hem, you always have to make sure the measurements are exact, or else it'll look uneven all around..." 

Italy fumbled with the needle, barely missing another pricking of his finger. Austria, on the other hand, hemmed with natural ease; his needle slided in and out of vest's edge, keeping the edge straight. 

When Austria glanced over at Italy's three haphazard stitches, he sighed heavily. "See, this is why I'm teaching you now. So you don't mess up on something like your dress, dear." 

If Italy had expected sewing lessons from anyone, it would've been Hungary. When Austria handed Italy a vest to mend, he immediately went to her for advice. However, Hungary just smiled sheepishly and pointed him back to Austria. "I'm no good with needles, I'm afraid," she laughed, holding Italy's hand as they walked down the hall. "If the needle grown into the size of a sword, maybe I could use that!" 

So now here Italy was, reluctantly handing over his "test" project to Austria so the lord could show him properly. 

"I would've thought that, coming from an empire that heavily supported the arts, someone like you would know how to sew," Austria said simply, handing back a perfectly hemmed scrap of cloth.

Italy flushed bright red at that, and he kept petulantly silent. 

Austria merely shrugged. "In time, I suppose. You'll have a lot to learn in this household." 

 


End file.
